A camping trip

[gentleman_tiger]

John hadn't been making a large issue over the fact that he was heading out camping over the weekend; he hadn't hidden it like a secret. He hadn't done any of these things because he wasn't stupid, and he was extremely good at keeping secrets

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Part 3

[gentleman_tiger]

After a long ramble that had turned up no more wells-- but a surviving variety of wildlife (John had brought back several long feathers and a large snail shell), the two men had fished companionably for a while.

They had managed to not duck one another in the pond, and actually caught a handful of small, energetic fish; something like trout, they looked edible. Those were spitted over a camp-fire, cooking under John's somewhat paranoid eye while he simultaneously tried not to burn a camp-pot full of vegetable soup.

Behind him, Harry was unpacking; he saw a handkerchief, the glint of glass. Things clinked.

He looked over his shoulder: "What are you doing?"

[wizard_p_i]

"Unpacking. I have some practicing to do this weekend. I have a lot to work on--formulas, solid illusions, that kind of thing."

Harry turned and grinned. "Which means, John, that you're going to get to see a hell of a lot of magic this weekend. Feel free to ask questions."

[gentleman_tiger]

"I plan to."

And then he turned back to the fire to snatch the pot of soup off before it could boil down into sludge and put it on a rock; the fish were carefully taken down and scraped onto two plates to cool. Not elegant, but food, dammit.

"Solid illusions? I don't know that I've heard of that."

[wizard_p_i]

"Basically, it's creating an illusion that's real enough not only to be seen, but also heard, smelled and even touched. Takes a lot of concentration....oooh. Dinner! Wow, that smells good!"

He put the magical ingredients aside for the moment and made his way over to the campfire.

[gentleman_tiger]

John almost burned his fingers tasting some of the piping hot fish. "Needs salt. I don't suppose salt or butter are important mystical components you have lying around?"

[wizard_p_i]

Harry laughed. "Salt is a magical component, John. And I brought a new canister of it. And pepper, for no other reason than because I'd just put salt in the shopping basket.
Even butter. In case we made popcorn or something.

He headed over to his pack to get the salt, then made his way to the tent to retrieve the pepper and butter. A few minutes later, smiling, he offered the foodstuffs to John.

[gentleman_tiger]

John smiled. "How convenient of you. This may be edible after all." He salted the fish heavily, and smeared a bit of soggy butter over it, and poured the soup into two bowls.

"Actually the wizard Bainbridge did mention salt as a magical component-- and magic disruptor, in some circumstances."

[wizard_p_i]

"It is," Harry said, taking a plastic forkful of the probable trout. It tasted delicious. "It disrupts most magic. But it's easy to dilute so it's not much use as a shield. Pretty useful in potions, though."

[gentleman_tiger]

"It's something I'm going to work on when I get home. Or at least drop it in the right ears. If it could be incorporated into the casing of a computer, say...?" John ate his soup thoughtfully. "But that isn't a particularly pressing matter."

"Are there rules to potion making? Well; there must be. But a consistent chemistry."

[wizard_p_i]

Harry laughed. "Rules, yes. Chemistry, not so much. Potions are all made roughly the same way. One base ingredient--the liquid to put everything else in. An ingredient relating to each of the five senses. One ingredient for the mind, and one for the spirit. Eight ingredients for every potion. That's the rule."

He paused. "And the ingredients are different for every single potion, and for every single person making the potions. Which is why wizards have grimoires and not mass-produced potion books, like in Regulus's universe."

Explanation paraphrased from Storm Front, pp. 94-95.

[gentleman_tiger]

"This all sounds a bit wishy-washy crystal-waving bookstore Wiccan, you realize," John said, trying to look over Harry's shoulder at the contents of the bottles. Some of them were empty, but stoppered tightly just the same. Perhaps to keep them sterile for new ingredients?

[wizard_p_i]

"Wicca is a religion," Harry said patiently, eating his trout as the soup cooled. "I'm not a member of any religion. And why does it sound wishy-washy?"

[gentleman_tiger]

"Different ingredients depending on who's mixing it? That sounds a bit... well, dubious." At least to someone who had grown up in a world where things didn't perform differently simply because of the emotions of the user.

[wizard_p_i]

"Oh, okay. I see the problem, then. Thing is, when you want to make a potion, the power has to come from somewhere. Maybe some natural site that has a lot of power, like...well, like Old Faithful. Or from a site that's a focus of magical power, like Stonehenge. Or...inside. Thoughts. Will. Emotions.

"The most powerful magic comes from inside. And when you're making potions in a lab, that's generally what you've got available.

"So say you're trying to make a potion. A protection potion. All the ingredients would have to relate to protection, both by definition and in your mind. If you stuck in an ingredient that you didn't believe would protect you no matter what, believe me, it would go horribly wrong. Because it's your will, your emotions that you have to infuse the ingredients with. And will and emotions...that's you. Part of you."

He paused. "And that's why it varies from person to person. Because each person's perceptions and will and emotions and desires are different. They're as individual as fingerprints."

Much of this

[gentleman_tiger]

"By whose definition, though?" John shook his head. "I'm afraid I'll have to watch and see."

[wizard_p_i]

"Yeah, you will." Harry grinned at him mischievously. "I think you'll enjoy it. A lot."

He put aside the brook trout for the moment and began eating the vegetable soup.